Moving on with You
by foreverme98
Summary: Hermione isn't sure how to let go of her childhood crush, and it turns out that someone else wants to be a part of her future. Will she let herself have her very own happily-ever-after?
1. Chapter 1

"Really, Fred," Mrs. Weasley berated. "Will you please leave your brother alone? You've been pranking him all day!"

Hermione watched the scene from the shadowy corner she'd stuffed herself into a few hours earlier. It had been a last-ditch effort to get some peace and quite from the loud, boisterous crowd. She loved the Weasley family, and when they'd invited her to spend the summer with them, she'd jumped at the chance, but it had only been a week and she was already missing home. Though, if she was being honest with herself, her homesickness probably stemmed from the fact that Ron had been parading his new girlfriend around for the past two days.

"Well, I wouldn't have to use such drastic measures, if my brother wasn't such a clueless git," Fred defended.

"Please try to remember that Ron is your brother, Fred," his mother huffed, kneading the doe with a ferocity Hermione hardly thought was necessary.

"I'm trying to forget," he mumbled. "He's a disgrace to the Weasley name."

Hermione wondered what Ron had done to make Fred so angry. Ron wasn't the pranking type so Fred's motivation couldn't be revenge. In fact, she hadn't even seen Fred and Ron speak to each other since she'd arrived seven days ago. Funny that she hadn't noticed it before, but there was a palpable tension in the air whenever the two brothers were ever in the same room together.

"Shame on you!" Mrs. Weasley's voice penetrated her thoughts. "He's a part of this family, Fred, and that means something."

Fred's face turned a harsh red and his hands balled into fists by his sides. "And what about Hermione, mum?" he hissed.

"What about her?"

"She's hurting!"

Mrs. Weasley stopped dicing the onions for the stew to send her son a warning glare. "Hurting? Did you and George do something to the poor girl?"

Hermione felt like she should sneak out because technically she was eavesdropping, but her feet refused to move. She couldn't say why, but she wanted to hear what Fred was going to say next. They weren't close by any stretch of the imagination, but here Fred was, defending her to his mother. It was all very strange.

"No, of course not. _Ron_ is the one flaunting Lavender around like she's some tramp," he exclaimed loudly. "He doesn't even care that he's putting Mi through the ringer."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, which Hermione found rather insulting. Didn't Mrs. Weasley care that her son was being incredibly insensitive? She considered the woman to be a second mother-figure, but apparently the sentiment wasn't returned, and Hermione had to admit-it hurt.

"You know, Fred," Mrs. Weasley said, her tone innocently conversational. "I noticed something interesting last night during supper."

"What?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled again as she spun around to check on the potatoes. "I noticed you had your eyes focused intently on our little Mione."

Hermione noticed the way Fred's body stiffened and how the tips of his ears turned a bright pink. "That's ridiculous," he replied. "I have no idea what you mean."

"No?" Mrs. Weasley chuckled.

"No!" he denied vehemently. "Hermione is my little brother's best friend. Fancying her would be crazy...ludicrous." The last part was said hesitantly as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying himself.

Giving her son a knowing look, Mrs. Weasley went to wrap an arm around his waist. "That may be, but the heart does not care about such things. Beside, why would it be crazy to care for Hermione? She's a wonderful girl."

"Mum, Hermione is never going to look at me like she looks at Ron," Fred murmured. "I'm just the obnoxious prankster she has to put up with."

"Now that's ridiculous," Mrs. Weasley chided. "You can't know how the girl feels unless you ask her yourself."

Shoulders slumped, head bowed, Fred shook his head. "It would ruin everything if she didn't feel the same, mum."

"And what if she does?" Mrs. Weasley asked, brow raised.

Hermione didn't hear the rest, because her mind was racing over everything she'd heard. Fred fancied her? It seemed hard to believe that the famous Fred Weasley had a crush on her. She was two years behind him, and she had quite a reputation as an annoying know-it-all. They couldn't be anymore different from each other.

Too be honest, she found him attractive, but she would never let herself daydream about him. Of course, now she was doing a lot more than daydreaming. She'd overhead a conversation that wasn't meant for her ears, and she wasn't sure what to do with the information she'd learned. She wasn't sure how to feel or what to say...

The best course of action, in her opinion, was to leave before they noticed her presence. She wasn't sure what she should say to Fred, and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be much help if worse came to worse. The woman would probably start talking about marriage and babies, and both her and Fred would end up mortified, and probably scarred for life. No, she needed to leave in order to get her bearings. She needed time to think over everything before dinner.

As she snuck up the stairs, she hoped that she would have a better grasp on things by supper.

* * *

 **A/N - I should be working on my other stories (and I will), but Fred and Hermione make me happy. The next chapter will be up soon. What will happen at dinner? Stay tuned to find out!**


	2. Chapter 2

Nerves were getting the best of her. Her insides were twisted into knots and her palms were sweating up a storm. She hardly knew what to do with herself when she settled into the last empty seat, which, unfortunately, happened to be next to Fred. He smiled warmly at her when she sat down, causing her heart to start racing, and her senses to leave her completely. It was almost too much for her to smile politely back at him, and of course, he noticed the difference in her behavior towards him because he was Fred, and he noticed everything. Ignoring the look of concern he was aiming her way, Hermione gratefully excepted the bowl of soup Ginny passed to her.

The table was roaring with laughter and teasing, but her mind was focused on the silent redhead beside her while she spooned beef stew into her mouth like it was going to be her last meal- she wanted her mouth to be full at all times, to keep him from striking up a conversation with her. It was silly and juvenile, but she couldn't quite make herself feel ashamed enough to quit.

"Mione, save some for us!" Ron exclaimed quite suddenly.

Knowing she was blushing like mad, she tried to keep her head down so that her hair would hide most of the evidence.

"Don't be rude, Ron," Mrs. Weasley scolded from her spot beside her husband. "I made plenty for everyone."

"Really, Ron," Ginny huffed. "You've already had 3 bowls. How much more can you eat?"

Scowling, he shoved another bite of food into his mouth. "I'll eat until I'm full, Gin. If you've got a problem with that, then you can just shove-"

"That's enough," Mr. Weasley interjected sternly.

Everyone quieted down until George cracked one of his jokes, and the table was sent into a fit of laughter once more. Relieved, Hermione focused her attention on the wooden table, her mind a million miles away. Not interested in finishing her meal, she swirled her spoon around in the last bit of broth she had in her bowl while she contemplated the problem at hand. The problem was that Fred fancied her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about Fred. He was smart, funny, lively, brave...He was everything a girl could ask for, but she'd grown up wanting Ron. Of course, now, she knew she would never have Ron's affections, never have his heart because he'd already given everything to Lavender.

"You okay, Mi?"

Turning her head to glance at the boy beside her, she tried to calm her unsettled nerves. "Of course, Fred. Whatever gave you the idea that I wasn't?" she asked, feigning nonchalance.

"You're being awfully quiet tonight," he observed worriedly.

She fixated on the way his gaze caressed her face, searching for answers she wasn't willing to give him. He didn't know she'd overheard his conversation with his mother, but he knew something was off, and she couldn't find the courage to be honest with him. It was another problem she wasn't ready to deal with so she put on a brave face, and got to her feet in an awkward rush.

"I'm a little tired," she murmured with a shrug. "I just need a good night's sleep."

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, the sound of Hermione's chair drawing her attention.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," she reassured. "Nothing a little sleep won't cure."

Not looking convinced, she narrowed her eyes for a split second before smiling contentedly. "Fred, why don't you take Hermione out for a walk? She's looking a little pale. Some fresh air will do her a world of good."

Hermione's eyes widened in barely concealed panic. "That's not necessary!" she squeaked. "I really just need-"

"Nonsense," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "What you need is a little bit of air. It isn't healthy to be inside all day like you are, you know," she reprimanded gently.

"But-"

"No, buts, dear!" She sent Fred a look and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on then! Enjoy yourselves!"

Sighing, Fred stood up and pushed his chair back. "Alright, mum."

Fred might be willing to give in to his mother, but Hermione wasn't so easily bullied. She had a sneaking suspicion Mrs. Weasley was throwing them together on purpose, and while Hermione could understand a mother's desire to make her children happy, it wasn't fair to herself.

"Really," she tried again. "I would feel a lot better if I could just go upstairs to bed."

"I know my wife, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said around a mouthful of bread. "It would be best to let her have her way."

The rest of the family mumbled their agreement while Hermione tried to think of a way to get out of having to spend time alone with Fred.

"Mi," the object of her torment murmured. "What's wrong, really?"

Throwing her hands in the air, Hermione stomped out the door, too angry, too frustrated to think straight. "She wants him to take me out for a walk," she mumbled under her breath as she stormed out into the yard. "I'm not a _dog_ for goodness sake."

She spun around when she heard Fred's heavy footsteps draw near. "Why do you like me?"

The question tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it. Just minutes ago she couldn't even look him in the eye without blushing, and now she was confronting him about his feelings for her? She was absolutely, undeniably bonkers.

Taking a step back, he stared at her, startled. "What?"

She watched him watch her; she was having a hard time answering his question because she was too busy getting lost in his brown eyes.

A few seconds later, she got a grip on her emotions and took a deep breath. "I overheard you earlier," she admitted softly.

His fair skin paled further under his freckles. "You overheard," he repeated dumbly.

"Yes," she whispered.

He dragged a hand down his face. Turning his eyes to the ground, he let out a humorless chuckle. "So that's why you've been avoiding me...You don't feel the same way, and now, you feel uncomfortable around me."

The bleakness in his voice set her on edge. Fred wasn't supposed to act like this. He was always happy, always playing around, but the boy standing before her looked tired, angry. It wasn't right.

"Why do you like me?" she asked again, needing to hear his answer.

He shrugged helplessly. "Because you're Hermione," he said simply as if that's all that needed saying. "You're the girl who always has it together. You're the bravest, smartest witch I know. You're beautiful and good."

Smiling, he took a step closer. "You're Hermione," he finished.

The words weren't fancy, or particularly poetic, but they touched a place inside her that had never been touched before. All she'd ever wanted was to be accepted and he did. He saw her and he _accepted_ her. He'd seen her at her worst when she was a child- when her teeth were too big and her hair was too bushy. He knew how obsessed she was with reading and studying. He knew, and he still wanted her.

"I've liked Ron for as long as I can remember," she said after a moment of silence.

Looking resigned to his fate, he bowed his head. "Yeah, I know."

It was then that she realized just how stupid she'd been. "But he chose Lavender," she whispered. "He doesn't want me; he's never wanted me."

Looking up, Fred started to close the distance between them. "Mi, he's an idiot. He's blind if he can't see how amazing you are."

She shook her head. "I'm the one that's been the idiot. I've been pining for someone who isn't even right for me."

He paused in his advance. "What?"

Laughing in disbelief, Hermione tilted her head to stare up at the sky. "I've wasted so much time on Ron! _Ron_! Can you believe that? We don't even get along!"

She'd grown up thinking she was intelligent, but she was starting to doubt it.

Perplexed, Fred said, "Mi, I don't understand."

"I've been miserable because I thought I had lost my chance with Ron, but that's ridiculous. Ron and I would have never been happy with each other. I've been focusing on the wrong brother."

Time slowed to a stop.

"Mi, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

The hope in his eyes made her knees feel wobbly and weak. "I'm saying that it's time to move on, and..." she reached for his hand. "I think I would like to move on with you. That is if that's what you want."

Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, he lifted her up from the ground. "Yes! I can't think of anything I want more."

"Fred!" she yelled happily. "Fred, put me down."

With one more spin, he complied, but he kept his long arms wrapped around her waist. His smile was a mile wide and it reached those eyes she'd always admired. "Sorry, you've just made me so happy. My heart feels like it might burst."

Feeling her cheeks heat up, she ducked her head. Her brain was analyzing everything, and before long, she met his eyes, needing to ease her mind over a thought she'd had. "We can take things slow, right? I don't want to rush into anything."

Smiling affectionately, he tucked her hair behind her ears and laughed when it sprung back to angle her face. "We'll go as slow or as fast," he winked, "as you want, Mi."

"Thank you, Fred."

Moving to rest his cheek on the top of her head, he sighed. "No, _thank you_ , Mi. You're giving me a chance, and that's all I've ever wanted."

All Hermione could do was smile. Belatedly, she realized she was going to have to thank Mrs. Weasley for meddling.


End file.
